The Microwave Mystery Shower

Well, it ain't Val's house if there aren't unexplained events! We'd grown complacent over the past few weeks. Maybe we were just busy looking for our Christmas package deliveries, or stirring Chex Mix, or throwing away (Hick's and my) money at the casino. I guess SOMETHING has been feeling neglected.

Wednesday morning (and by morning, I mean 1:20 p.m.), I got in the shower before my trip to town. The Pony was in the kitchen, making himself a salad from a bag of Caesar Salad that was left over from me not using the lettuce in my 7 Layer Salad. It was an unopened bag, still within the expiration date. The Pony was planning to add some Imo's cheese to it. For anybody unfamiliar with Imo's Pizza, that cheese is made for their chain, a mixture of provolone, swiss, and white cheddar.

Anyhoo... just before I stepped out of the shower, I heard the microwave door close. I figured The Pony might have felt more peckish, and decided to warm up a slice of ham to go with his salad. OR, maybe Hick was home from the pawn shop 30 miles away, where he'd been headed, according to his text an hour earlier, at 12:20:

"I was at the locker for a while to show my police buddy again now I'm going to go out for Tosi at the pawn shop see if they got anything" [Yeah. Welcome to my life of loose interpretation. I think he'd been showing a gun, and was going to look for another.]

The water was off, the sliding door was slid open, and all I had to do was step out of the shower onto the rug. The clock showed 1:40. Yet there was that microwave sound. I listened to see if Hick was stumping around outside the bathroom door, depositing his wad of cash on the dresser. No. Didn't hear anyone. Must have been The Pony, even though he professes not to like ham very much.

I dressed, gathered up a load of laundry, tossed it in the washer, put on my socks, bade adieu to The Pony, and headed to town for Hick's ice cream, bananas, and more lettuce. The Pony greeted me in the garage when I got home, and carried in my groceries.

As he was putting them away, and I was adding Sugar Free Cherry Limeade powder to my 44 oz Diet Coke... I asked The Pony if he had some ham for lunch. 

"No. I don't like ham very much."

"What did you warm in the microwave?"

"Nothing? I didn't put ANYTHING in the microwave. I thought that was YOU!"

"I didn't put anything in the microwave!"

"I heard you! I thought you were out of your shower, and having something before you went to town."

"Nope. Not me. Has Dad been here?"

"I don't think so. I didn't hear the door. Wait. [The Pony trotted to the front door and looked out.] No. His truck isn't here."

"Huh. That's weird."

"Maybe you heard the ice maker dumping ice."

"Did YOU think it was the ice maker dumping ice?"

"No. It sounded like the microwave door."

"I KNOW! They are completely different. Oh, well. I guess our friend must be back."

I opened the laundry room door to put my clothes in the dryer. HOLD ON! There was a broom and dustpan in the middle of the floor! Take my word for it. We don't use a broom and dustpan all that often around here!

"Pony! Look! The broom is all the way out across the tile. And the dustpan there isn't even clipped on anymore!"

"Maybe THAT'S what we heard!"

"No. It wasn't there when I put the laundry in before I left. That was after we heard the microwave. It had to fall during the time I was gone."

"I didn't hear anything then!"

"EEK! The dustpan just grabbed my ankle!"

"Mom. You stepped back as you were turning to put the clothes in the dryer. Your ankle touched it."

"Well, it SEEMED like it tried to grab my ankle!"

Here's the thing. The broom (with plastic dustpan snapped on the top of the handle) leans in the corner by the washer. It leans in the corner, 6-8 inches away from the side of the washer. To jump out in the floor like that, the broom would have needed to stand itself upright at 90 degrees, then fling itself over onto the floor, while giving a little hop to free itself from some kind of rack that is leaning in that alcove.

I picked it up, snapped the dustpan back on the handle, and set it in the corner again. That thing had BETTER be in the same place when I go in there tomorrow!